To Write An Alphabet Letter
by kusegoto
Summary: (Мор. Утопия / Pathologic) A declination of love over the course of several months, told through correspondence. Aglaya Lilich/Yulia Lyuricheva from Pathologic 2.
1. Chapter 1

there is another woman in my pedagogy of western language class who spells her name aglaia. she doesn't remind me much of you, though. she is much shorter and has red hair. she stands out like you, however. maybe it's just her hair, but she is forward natured, too. she is takeing_[sic]_ the debating course, and it seems she enjoys a contrarian nature outside of that hall. i suppose you two are one in the same after all, given how well you can talk to people.

i hope you receive this before next week. i want to invite you to ninette's dacha. it will be for four days. come visit.

y. lyuricheva


	2. Chapter 2

As gracious as I am for your invitation, I will decline. I scarcely had the time to write to you. I am working. Offer Ninette my apologies and my appreciation.

I will be departing for the Eastern front in the coming weeks. I will compose letters to send. I will be unable to receive yours. You may continue to send your own to the same address.

Are you calling me annoying?

a.l


	3. Chapter 3

ninette understands.

how far on the front? right to the fighting or in one of the villages? there was a razing in one. i only found out because the stamatin twins have a cousin out there who came here for shelter. burnt to the ground.

no, you're not annoying. she just reminds me of you. you're very well-spoken; she is simply outspoken. seeking answers.

be careful. i know you always are, but please.

and you can be less formal with me. there was a stain on your letter. did you spill your coffee again?

y. lyuricheva


	4. Chapter 4

It's a habit.

I cannot disclose that information. Not over correspondence. I'm sorry. But I will be mindful, for your sake. While performing to the furthest extent of my abilities, of course.

As a parting gesture, enclosed is two-hundred in cash. Please feel free to buy yourself some sparkling wine for the trip. Pour a glass for me.

Do you want more coffee stains? Do they remind you of me?

a.l


	5. Chapter 5

what's a habit - the coffee, or the silence?

i do miss your coffee stains. you left one on my bridge sketches once. i made a pulley system with the shape the cup left behind. I had to redraw the bridge entirely for my project because i didn't want to hand it in like that and lose what you left me.

this should arrive to your apartment on the 16th. i hope you can return to it.

y. lyuricheva

what is the east like?  
what kind of things did you see?  
were people hurt? did you hurt people?  
can you visit me when you come home?


	6. Chapter 6

you better answer those things from the last one, by the way. i only realized i wrote them on the wrong piece of paper. i was going to ask those. foolish me.

ninette is engaged. she's marrying a man from a university that rivals ours. i think she's inviting me to the wedding, but i don't know if i want to go. she has quite the social circle. i don't really want to see a man cry over a woman, anyway.

it's going to get cold soon. i hope you're wearing more than that uniform - even if you do look beautiful in it.

i miss you.

y. lyuricheva


	7. Chapter 7

i should be dating these. i think i sent the last one on the 2nd. this is on the 15th. i hope you don't mind the pile of letters at your door.

there's been talk of an execution out east after an inquisitor arrived. they said it was a man named karminskiy, though. is he your supervisor? assistant?

the public knows your names. as secretive as you are, you can't run from a name, aglaya.

that other girl dropped out, by the way. diagnosed with hysteria. i think it's ridiculous. andrey was sweet on her. if i focus on it, i can see why.

y. lyuricheva


	8. Chapter 8

I cannot be certain when you will receive this. I have been told of slow traffick[sic] along this supply chain. We are following it east. I am not permitted to disclose what I am travelling but it will likely, eventually, reach your ears.

As it is, that is now.

I am travelling to the easternmost oblast in regards to an independent village declaring allegiance to the east. It is reportedly in control of the entire region, like some kind of serfdom. Inquisitor Karminskiy and I are coordinating efforts to control the matter. It is my final test before I am to be officially graded as an Inquisitor. I know what to expect. It is entirely likely the leader of this cell will die. I have accepted that. Once he is dead, we will take the necessary action to subdue the oblast.

I feel you resent my lack of transparency. Know that I am always honest with you, irregardless of what truth I may disclose. I wonder — no, worry, that you are furious with me at times. It is easier to tell you how I feel through writing. Shall we enjoy our reunion over dinner?

You needn't worry for me. However Inquisitor Karminskiy conducts himself, I am ultimately an observer of his actions, and will take my own accordingly. The further I travel, the further I believe you feel we grow.

I cannot be a woman who feigns a co-ed living with you. But I can be of fair company. Will I have you? for dinner.

a. l

This is not a lettered response. The day is 12th.


	9. Chapter 9

i enjoyed our dinner. thank you for returning to me in one piece.

i wrote an exam since i last spoke with you. i watched one of the twins (the irritating one) fall to despair due to his failure to pass. the other one is quite polite. you seem like you could enjoy academia, even if some of the people here have a flair for dramatics.

i must confess something to you: i stole some of your hair ties. i much enjoy your hair when it is down, rolling over your shoulders and down your back. when i woke in our bedroom and saw how it captured you in shadow i could not help but run my fingers down your scalp. then, i snatched every last one of the ties on your dresser. maybe you'll cut everything below your chin off, and then i will have nothing, just to torment me.

i'm wearing one right now.

y. lyuricheva


	10. Chapter 10

I quickly found ribbons to cut and use as supplements. You're a very wicked woman. Maybe I will cut my hair, just to ruin your morning dreams.

I know your hands were in my scalp. They were also over my shoulder, like the way you wear your evening coats, careful and light. I feared you might reach your hands over my throat and take life from me. Why do I regard you in the way many might myself? Do I believe you capable of what is expected of me? Do I think of you the way I do of unkind hands?

You make honesty bleed from me as cut skin does blood. I've taken up your suggestion of academics. A bachelor of medicine and thanatology was presenting an experiment of a reanimated body, and I spoke with him for some time after his presentation. You are correct, regarding the dramatics of scholars, but I suppose everyone is guilty of theatre in the monotony of our existence.

I will be out of the Capital this coming weekend. I may not see your reply until I return. I cannot disclose why. But you will read about it.

Yours,

a.l


	11. Chapter 11

to my aglaya,

i had a letter written once i received yours, but i had chosen to discard it until i did, in fact, read.

you must stop scaring me like this. i understand the secrecy - but please, you must at least assure me you won't be hurting anyone. i am grateful i do not have to write a letter terminating our affair in the wake of your missions.

i cherish our time together. even apart, writing to you brings me deep catharsis, the way no cigarette can, neither the way any suggestion of spring can. you are a presence that i value, a thing that i chase, a woman who i could proclaim myself before and trust whatever hand she brings upon me. you must not fear what i can cause. who is it that causes you to fear what a loved one can cause? have they been telling you things, things you are unable to deny out of fear? do you fear anything at all anymore? or are we your only uncertainty?

you never answered my questions. i don't want to argue this over our letters - i cherish them too much. please talk to me about this in person. don't tell me you can't.

yours,

y. lyuricheva


	12. Chapter 12

Jula.

Your eyes, hands, limbs, legs, arms, breasts, teeth, tongue, shape, size, scent, all of it coiling around your heart, clenching it tight, almost emptying you of blood, becoming a being of impossible light. How do you manage to be such a force I crave? How do we long for one another so tremendously, and yet our paths cannot cross?

Beyond missed dates, evenings alone, and nights without you - I feel that I cannot become who you wish I can be. This is not something you have failed to accomplish - only that it is who I am becoming, what I must do. It is a weaver's mistake, wrapping what we desire and what we must become together. A pattern that cannot be understood. A pattern that does not come together. A pattern we must cut.

I do not want to cut it. I do not want to sacrifice what we have. But the truth is, I am a woman of a new life. As you build, I will walk the paths you carve; the stone you will lay shall become my guide. Yet, as a guide must be, you are beyond me - and this betrayal of what we are to one another is why I am at our impasse.

I do not resent you. I care for you. But the shell you have granted me must be shed.

One day, perhaps we will be one.

Aglaya.


	13. Chapter 13

i wish you had the spine to tell me this in person. but it is done, isn't it? betrayal by your own hand? tragedy to compensate for fear? who sacrifices who - your power, or my dignity?

i have one of your dresses. if you want it back, break into my apartment and steal it. otherwise, i'm keeping it. perhaps it can be a memento, as a reminder of where we will be.

perhaps you'll be comforted to know i'll be moving, anyway. i've been commissioned, alongside the twins, for a town's project out east. perhaps we'll meet again.

yulia.


End file.
